


If You Came to Me

by zyxw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zyxw/pseuds/zyxw
Summary: Shortly after the battle of Hogwarts, Hermione decides to leave the wizarding world for a muggle life. She planned on returning one day, really she did. After five years, Fred decides he can't wait.Major character death warning applies to only the mention of a death.  No deaths are described in this story.





	1. Four Years Eleven Months

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: JK Rowling is amazing and a personal hero, however I do not know her, have never met her, and own no rights to the Harry Potter series.

Fred tossed and turned. Like most nights his dreams were plagued with an image he couldn't get out of his head. The evening and day before that were also like most. He worked in the shop with his brother, had dinner with his family, had drinks at the pub with their friends after. All the while he was simply going through the motions, saying what needed to be said, doing what needed to be done, pranking what needed to be pranked, drinking what needed to be drank all so they wouldn't ask the questions that needed to be answered.  
The war was over five years ago and he knew himself lucky to be alive. He wouldn't be if it weren't for her. Everyone believed him to be dead from that wall crushing him. His breathing was shallow, barely noticeable to anyone else, just like his pulse. His parents and siblings were crying over his still form as the dust settled from the final battle. People were hugging, crying, cheering, mourning all around them. Even she had been mourning the loss of someone else when she'd noticed it. She was just laying him down next to Fred, whose head was turned slightly to the left, when she felt something on her ankle. A small draft, barely noticeable if it hadn't hit the still wet blood dripping down her leg and chilled her slightly.  
She eased her friend to the ground and turned to see George thrown over his twin's still body. She discreetly reached over and took Fred's hand, sliding her fingers to the pulse point on her wrist. Her eyes grew wide and she pushed George away. He sat stunned and offended staring at his younger siblings' friend as she did some strange sort of pushing on Fred's chest. Then she moved his head to breath into his mouth and his mother attempted to pull her away. But she fought back, again moving her small hands down to push on the fallen twin's chest, then again breathing. The whole while the family tried to pull her away and she simply fought back until finally the unbelievable happened.  
Fred's eyes shot open and he sprang up. Only to fall back to the ground with a massive headache. In his joy just to be alive he grasped onto the closest thing to him and wrapped it close to his chest as he fell back down. It was a person. He recognized the feel of the curls and the warm scent of that person who was now struggling to free herself from his grasp.  
He loosened slightly at the same time that he opened his eyes again. The scene was blurry and confusing the first time he'd opened them but now it was more clear as her honey colored eyes stared back into his bright green ones. She was crying and he let go with one arm to wipe her tears.  
"You saved me," he whispered but all too soon she was pulled away by his ecstatic family.  
That was his dream, every night for four years and eleven months now. He knew the details from his twin and stolen private conversations he'd had with her in the weeks following. And now he dreamed of it. He dreamed of her saving him, him looking into her eyes and wanting nothing more than to thank her and her being pulled away. But it was more than that. He dreamed of the gut wrenching moment when she'd received the letter in the muggle post. It was from a lawyer, telling her that her parents were dead and that she'd inherited everything.  
He'd been helping her search for them. They planned on going to them together and restoring their memories. He'd come over to help her search as he did most nights. It was his way of saying thank you, which of course he'd done verbally many times but how can one say thank you enough to the woman who'd saved his life. After about the hundredth time (a feat that had taken only a few hours) she'd begged him to stop so instead he went to her house every night and helped her search until the day that they found out exactly why they were having no luck.  
It had been three weeks after the final battle that the letter came. She collapsed on the kitchen floor screaming in pain and he'd run from the other room to see what was the matter. He gingerly picked the letter up from the ground and read it three times over before sitting behind her and pulling her into his lap, holding her for hours as she cried over the loss.  
For the next week she locked herself away, not seeing anyone. Not answering her door or phone or owl post. He had woken up on the seventh day after, determined to see her. He would apparate straight into her living room and demand that she at least let him make sure she was taking care of herself. He would force his company on her if that's what it would take to make sure she was alright. Just as he was about to make the short trip a small pop sounded only feet behind him. He turned to see her standing in the middle of his bedroom.  
She was thin and looked tired. Her eyes were brimmed with red like she'd been crying. They looked the same as they had the first time he'd opened his eyes after the battle.  
"I came to say goodbye," she whispered.  
He just stared.  
"It's not forever," she continued, sitting on his bed and pulling her legs up until she was sitting in a meditation like position. "Just until I figure some things out. What with my parents and Harry...I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I've lost everyone who cares."  
"So you're leaving?" He didn't know how to tell her then that she hadn't lost everyone. She had him. He cared. And Ron, Ginny, his brothers, their parents, Luna, Neville. Sure they were all caught up in their own grief right now but they all cared too. They just needed a little time to calm down before they could see how badly she needed them.  
"Just until I can stand to be here again. This war, it took so much and I...I just need a break." He nodded as he sat next to her on the bed. It was then that he saw the box in her hand. "Could you keep this?" she asked. "For safety. I just want away from magic for a while."  
"Your wand?"  
"Please."  
He nodded again and gingerly took the box from her hands, placing it near the pillows of his bed.  
"These are for your family," she said as she handed him a stack of rolled parchment, each roll had a name scrawled in her small, beautiful script. "Can you make sure that they get them? I don't think I can handle all the goodbyes."  
"Am I the only one you're seeing?" he asked, confused and honored at the same time.  
She nodded.  
"There's one last thing," she said after a long silence.  
"Anything," he promised.  
"Can you come to the train station with me?"  
"Of course."  
And he did. He stood and shrunk the trunk she'd brought with her, putting it in his pocket. He wrote a short note to George telling him that he'd be a little late to work and to open up without him then he'd helped her sneak out of the flat above the shop before George woke up, got the wrong idea and she had to say one more goodbye.  
They walked slowly through Diagon Alley. It was early still. No one was out yet to recognize the two war heroes and unlikely friends. Even as they passed through the Leaky Cauldron no heads turned their way. They strolled side by side through muggle London all the way to the train station where he quickly dipped into a loo, restored her things to their normal size and returned to her with them.  
"Where are you going?" he asked as they stood on the platform.  
She shrugged. "My ticket's for Birmingham but I don't know that I'll stay there."  
"Will you let me know when you do know where you'll stay?" he asked hopefully.  
The look she gave him was answer enough even before she spoke. "I can't. I'll come back when I'm ready, Fred. I promise! But if I tell you where I am and you decided to come to me..."  
"What?" he pleaded.  
"I know if you come to me and ask me to come back, I will. Even if I'm not ready. Even if I can't handle it. If you ask me to come back I will!" It almost seemed like she was pleading with him to ask her. He didn't. "I really don't have a reason to stay. Goodbye."  
He held her tightly as he said his goodbyes and watched with sad eyes as she boarded the train only turning back once she'd found a seat with a good view of him. She waved until he was out of sight.   
"I need you," he finally whispered. "Please come back."  
That was the last time anyone in the wizarding world heard from one Hermione Jean Granger. He felt honored that he got to be the last, the only one to get a personal goodbye. At the same time he felt responsible for his two younger siblings losing their friend, his parents losing a girl they thought of as their own daughter, his older brothers losing the woman who'd brought him back to them. Four years, eleven months.  
He hadn't felt quite right since that day. Everyone said that it was the battle, nearly dying, that changed him so much but he didn't think so. He felt fine those first three weeks, normal even. But then she disappeared for a week and he started to feel off the first twenty four hours without her. By day seven he was driving himself crazy. And now, well now he was better at hiding it but he was miserable most times. But he knew, simply felt it with everything inside of him that if he found her again he'd be alright. He needed her!  
Fred shot up in bed. "If you ask me to come back I will!" Those words had been running through his head since they left her mouth but they never meant as much as they did in that moment. It was like their full meaning had just showed itself. If HE asked her to come back, she would. All he had to do was ask. No one else could do it. HE could.  
There was only one small problem. He had to find her first.


	2. How can I face them all again?

George apparated to the flat with breakfast as he did everyday. Fred was a horrible cook but Angelina, George's wife, was brilliant and the dear kept her husband's twin well fed. Most mornings Fred was barely stumbling out of bed by the time his twin arrived but this morning was different.  
George was surprised to see his twin wide awake and fully dressed with a cup of coffee in one hand, a stack of papers in the other and a determined gleam in his eye. "Oh thank Merlin!" Fred exclaimed when he saw the plate in George's hand. He lunged at his twin and started shoveling food into his mouth, the coffee forgotten on the table but the papers still clenched tightly in his other hand. "Five cups of coffee on an empty stomach isn't a good idea!"  
"I wouldn't imagine it would be," George replied, looking at him skeptically. No matter how well Fred hid it from the rest of the world George knew that something was different about him. He wasn't the same as he was five years ago. Exactly five years ago, actually. The fifth anniversary of the final battle was tomorrow and that was the day everything changed for his twin. He never mentioned it of course. Even with your best friend their were things that you didn't talk about. George just assumed that nearly dying had its effect on a man. "What's got you so excited this morning?"  
Fred stopped in his tracks and slowly set the papers face down on the table. "Nothing, mate," he replied. "Just ready to get the day started."  
George nodded as they headed for the door together.  
Fred was distracted the whole morning, ignoring customers, family, friends. George finally got fed up and sent him to lunch early, thinking he'd go upstairs and come back normal again. He was surprised when instead of turning toward the staircase in the back of the shop, Fred exited through the front door after summoning the stack of papers and a box from the flat. He took a long lunch and was even more distracted when he returned.  
The next three weeks went by like this. He barely spoke at family dinners and never went to the pub with their friends anymore. Fred had turned into a hermit. It bothered most. Everyone who bought his I'm-normal-act over the past five years, actually, which was pretty much everyone. At first it bothered George too until he realized that this was the most alive and excited he'd seen his twin in years. Whatever it was, Fred needed it. George just hoped it wasn't something illegal.  
"Oi, George!" Fred called as he was about to head home from dinner at their parents' house. "I can't work tomorrow. I asked Ronnikins to cover for me."  
"Something important?" George asked, intrigued.  
"Very!"

Hermione Granger pulled her coat a little tighter around herself. It was summer, yes, but the morning chill of northern Britain was still enough to force her into wearing cooler weather outerwear on her way to get her morning tea from the corner shop. Now she was approaching her own store below her second story flat. She rented the building but owned the shop. The door jerked out of her hand just as she was about to shut it. It was a particularly windy morning so she thought nothing of it. Closing and latching the door, she set about her opening routine. Turning on lights, dusting displays, opening the till, and finally turning the sign to open and unlatching the door.  
It was sad to her that her little haven had to close soon. It wasn't by choice, or even necessity. The owner had sold the building and the new owner planned on adding a few more stories and turning it into a youth hostel. It was the perfect location with the friendly local shops and eateries so close by and the tube and bus terminals within walking distance. If she were completely honest, it would be best for her to put her business degree to better use. Yes, business was steady but she still barely made enough to make ends meet each month and would like to one day build a nest egg for herself.  
She gave a frown as she hung the "Going Out of Business Sale" sign in the window. She had one week left before she had to find a new haven.  
Business was steady, as always, even busy at times with the huge sale. It was hard to have the same conversation with each of her regulars about why she was leaving, where she would go. She didn't want to leave but she couldn't stay. It wasn't the first time she'd felt that way. In fact almost exactly five years ago she'd had to do the exact same thing. She sometimes regretted only saying goodbye to Fred. Today was not one of those days. She didn't think she'd ever be able to handle doing this with her friends and professors.  
She often considered going back but how?

Fred wanted nothing more than to rush up to her, pull her to him, apparate home and never let her out of his sight again. She wore the same look on her face as she had the day she left him standing alone at the train station. He didn't understand it until she hung the sign. "Going Out of Business." Her dream was dashed. She'd only ever told him about it, wanting to own her own book store.  
He was breathless with emotion and memory each time she explained to a customer why she was leaving, that she didn't want to but had to. He remembered her using many of those same words with him. He'd have thought hearing them every night in his dreams and thirty seven times (he counted) today would take some of the sting away. It didn't.  
He breathed a sigh of relief as she latched the door and turned the sign to closed.  
"You can show yourself now," she announced to the empty store.  
His eyes widened and he removed the charm.  
She gasped when she saw him and tears brimmed on her eyes.  
"Please come home," he finally spoke after a long silence.  
She let the tears fall as she crossed the floor to his open arms. She didn't speak as he rubbed his hands up and down her back. She simply cried into his shirt.  
"You can come back now. You told all those people you don't know where you're going and you-"  
"I've wanted to go back so many times," she confided, cutting him off. "But the longer I was gone the easier it was to stay gone."  
He nodded.  
"How can I face them all again? I can't."  
"Just come back and we'll deal with that when the time comes," he pleaded. "You can stay at my flat until you're ready. George got married two years ago. His room's empty."  
"But-"  
"You said if I asked you to come back, you would. Are you ready?"  
She nodded.  
"And I'm asking. Please, just come home!"  
"Okay," she finally whispered, looking up at him with a small, sad smile.


	3. The Utmost Importance

"How did you find me?"  
He heard her speaking but couldn't register what she was saying. He was just so happy to be here, to be able to breath in her sweet scent and hear the melodic tone of her voice that he couldn't actually make sense of what that beautiful symphony was saying to him.  
Hermione, though glad to finally have a friend sitting in her flat, was a little uncomfortable with the staring and waved her small hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his revery.  
"Oh, sorry," Fred apologized, blushing. "What did you say?"  
Hermione blushed in response to his, making him smile brightly. "I asked how you found me," she answered with a smile.  
"Oh, that. I helped you look for your parents remember? I knew where to start with the muggles. And a few weeks ago on lunch I stopped by Olivander's and asked a few questions about your wand."  
"My wand?"  
"The wand chooses the wizard. Turns out it can help find the wizard too."  
"That was clever," Hermione complimented causing Fred to blush deeper.  
He shrugged in response, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He was acting like a first year with a crush. "It was just a hunch that panned out really," he replied modestly.  
They heard a buzzer sound downstairs and Hermione grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "That'll be the pizza."  
Fred jumped from his seat and followed her down the stairs, not wanting to be away from her for a moment. Or was it that he needed to be with her? He wasn't quite sure.  
"Entertaining tonight, Miss Granger?" the delivery man asked as she opened the door.  
Hermione's face split into a bright, surprised smile as she turned to see Fred standing close behind her. "Yes," she replied as she turned back to the pizza man in his young twenties. Fred noticed him checking her out and threw a glare in his direction. "A good friend from my school days. What with the move coming up in less than a week I didn't have anything to offer him for dinner."  
"Yeah I heard about the closing. Mum's really upset about it. She was hoping you'd be around a long while. Neighborhood's going to miss you."  
"That's very kind but I think it may be time for me to be getting home."  
The man nodded as he accepted the money, surrendered the pizza and said his goodbyes.  
"You're a regular?" Fred teased, causing her to blush as she led the way back upstairs.  
"Not everyone can cook like your mum, Fred," Hermione giggled.  
"You could come by for dinner anytime," he replied more seriously. "She'd be happy to see you."  
Fred stayed until Hermione was falling asleep with his arm wrapped around her. He decided it would be best to let her sleep. She had a busy day ahead of her tomorrow. They talked about the store and how she felt about closing it. They discussed everything they'd both been doing since she left. He wasn't even surprised to hear that she had finished school in three years and managed to open the store right after. He was a little more shocked to hear about her travels on breaks and the adventures she'd had that didn't involve life and death situations. She'd become quite the adrenaline junky, a fact he blamed partly on his younger brother. He never wanted her to stop talking, gladly changing the subject back to her when they started discussing his own life which he didn't want to admit to her had been at a stand still since she left. With a long goodbye hug he promised to be back the following day to see her and apparated straight home.  
George was waiting.  
"Where've you been all day?" he asked.  
"Told you I had to do things," Fred replied with a shrug, refusing to meet his brother's eyes.  
"You forgot the meeting! I knew you couldn't work but I figured you'd be there for the staff meeting!"  
"Shite! Sorry, mate. It was something really important. I completely forgot." He really was sorry. Perhaps not as sorry as he should've been considering what he'd been up to all day but sorry nonetheless.  
"It's fine," George replied with a deep sigh. "I'll fill you in on some of my new ideas tomorrow."  
Fred gave him a regretful look.  
"You won't be there tomorrow, will you?"  
"I swear to you, it's of the utmost importance. I actually can't be there for the rest of the week," Fred confessed, looking a lot less regretful now.  
"Alright, what's going on with you?" George asked. "Everyone's noticed. I tried to ignore it because you seemed so happy but-"  
"It's not anything bad! I swear! In fact, once everyone hears they'll be more excited than you can imagine! But it'll be awhile before I can fully explain. Please just trust me!"  
George had never seen that look in his twins eyes before. It was pure desperation. Fred had never seemed so scared in his life. "Fine," he finally groaned. "Take your week. This better be as great as you make it out to be."


	4. Anything for You

Hermione recognized the faint "pop" of apparation as soon as it sounded at the foot of her the stairs leading to her apartment. It was 7 in the morning and she had just finished getting dressed. Though she knew he planned on coming over today, she thought he meant after work when they'd have time to visit more. In complete honesty, it excited her immensely that he hadn't chosen to wait. She missed him as soon as he'd left the evening before. As she lay in bed, no longer tired, she couldn't get the thought of him out of her mind. She clung to the promise of seeing him the following day. It was the only solace she could find.  
She met him at the door, pulling it open just as he raised his hand to knock. "Good morning," she greeted with a bright smile.  
"Good morning," he smiled back, holding up a box of pastries and two to go cups. "You still take your tea the same?"  
She looked at him confused a moment, wondering how he could remember, before nodding and accepting the gift. "Thank you," she replied after taking a sip and realizing it was just the way she liked it. "I wasn't expecting you so early."  
He shrugged, making a sweeping motion around the room. "You said you wanted to pack the muggle way last night. What with the sale downstairs and the short time frame you have to be out of here, I figured you could use the help." Hermione stared at him in silence. "You work, I'll pack."  
"You're serious?" she laughed.  
"Of course I'm serious. I can hardly wait for you to come back home and I'm willing to do what it takes to get you there. Be here the whole week if I have to." There wasn't a hint of joking in his voice and when she looked in his eyes there was no humor to be found. "Well don't just stand there. Go open your business and let me get to work up here."  
"Thank you, Fred," she replied with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek.  
"Anything for you," he whispered after she disappeared.  
Business had picked up since the day before with word of mouth spreading about the sale. Hermione wanted to take a short break to go upstairs and eat a quick lunch with Fred but she couldn't find a moment away. In fact before she knew it, it was the 6 o'clock closing time and she hadn't eaten a thing since the pastry Fred had brought that morning.  
She was filled with excitement even as she stumbled up the steep stairs toward her door. She wanted more than anything to see Fred again. To sit on the couch with his arm around her and talk, just talk about everything and nothing at the same time.  
She was disappointed when she arrived to an empty apartment and a note on the coffee table.  
'Mione,  
Sorry I had to leave before you got off work. Tonight's family dinner night and while I'd love to bring you along you seemed against the idea last night. I made you a little something for dinner. It's in the oven. I'll see you tomorrow.  
Best,  
Fred  
Hermione let out a disappointed sigh as she set the note back down on the table and headed to the kitchen. Fred had indeed made her dinner-pasta and bread- which she pulled out before tossing a salad and pouring herself a glass of wine.  
While she ate she made a short grocery list, things that she'd eat before Sunday's moving date and could use to throw together a quick lunch and decent breakfasts and dinners for her willing help.

"You look tired," George greeted his twin as soon as Fred's feet were firmly on the ground at the Burrow after his apparation. It was more of a question than a statement.  
"It's been a long day," Fred shrugged it off. It was hard keeping things from his twin like this. He'd gone so long telling George everything but that had stopped years ago. After she left, Fred hid the most sacred parts from his twin for self-preservation.  
"In for another long day tomorrow?" George asked as they entered the crowded kitchen.  
"And the next four days after," Fred replied after kissing his mother hello and shaking hands with his father.  
"Still not going to tell me about this little project of yours?" George asked again as they went through the rounds, hugging siblings, in-laws, nieces and nephews.  
"I'll tell everyone in good time." Fred's reply was sharper than usual, letting his brother know that it was time to drop the subject for the evening.  
Soon the family was caught up in conversation and plans for the next Weasley wedding. After three full years of mourning, Ginny had finally let go of what could've been with Harry and agreed to a date with Neville Longbottom. After a year and a half of dating, he proposed. Ginny and the other women in the family including Ron's wife, Luna Lovegood-Weasley, hadn't discussed anything but dresses, floral arrangements and menus since. It was a little wearing on the men who tried in vain to discuss quidditch over the volume of the woman.  
"I just can't believe she won't be there to be my maid-of-honor," Ginny stated, drawing everyone's attention to the wedding plans. They all know who 'she' was even before Ron spoke.  
"I know the feeling. I always thought Hermione and Harry would be standing up for me but you have to accept some things and just move on, Gin. It doesn't mean we love them any less." He'd become a little wiser after the battle, the things he saw, the friends he lost. It seemed to make him a little more introspective.  
Fred was thankful that he'd managed to overlook the fact that they were already done with dinner and on to dessert by the time this topic came up. He didn't know where the time went. He supposed he was so preoccupied with his own euphoria after seeing Hermione this morning and spending the day in her home packing her things for her upcoming move to his own home. If he were completely honest, he was still in a daze from that small peck on the cheek she'd given him this morning before she left for work. He could see himself living contentedly for the rest of his life with a peck on the cheek from her every morning.  
"Maybe she'll come around," Fred spoke up as he began clearing plates. Anything to get away from prying eyes. "You never know."  
"You've been saying that for five years, Fred," Ginny moped. "She hasn't come around yet. What did she say to you anyway? The day she left? You're the only one she actually spoke to."  
They'd been over it a thousand times since that day. Fred remembered vividly apparating back to the flat, waking George up to break the news then calling the rest of his family, Neville, and Luna to the flat to explain the situation and distribute the letters. He didn't know why they continued to ask. The answer never changed. "She said she needed some time but promised to come back," he replied quietly, for the first time doubting his decision to hide his news from his family. They would be so happy to hear it but he didn't want to overwhelm her and in all honesty, he selfishly wanted to keep her to himself for a few more days at least.  
"But when?" his mum pleaded. She always got emotional when they talked about Hermione. Both of his parents did. They considered Hermione one of their own and they felt like they'd failed her by not being there when she needed them most.  
"I don't know mum," Fred soothed. "You have to stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault."  
"But the poor dear lost both of her parents and I wasn't there for her."  
"You couldn't be!" Fred urged. "You had your hands full with everyone else's world falling apart. Besides, she shut down after it happened. Even if you weren't preoccupied, you wouldn't be able to help her. She didn't want to be helped. I have to be going," he told them as he finished rinsing the dishes and began the round of goodbye hugs, kisses and handshakes. "I have a busy day tomorrow. Good night."


	5. That's not going to turn into another thank you, is it?

"So tell me what I've missed," Hermione inquired the following evening. That morning when Fred arrived she had breakfast ready and waiting on the table. He'd brought along another box of pastries but was happy to leave them untouched on the counter in exchange for her fresh cooked meal. After that she went to the shop to work and he stayed upstairs packing. When she finally closed the store at seven that night he was waiting upstairs, having already turned the meager contents of her fridge into a delicious smelling meal.  
The first thing she did was change into yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. The second thing she did was tuck in at the dinner table across from Fred with a content smile on her face and tell him she'd planned on making him dinner that night as a thank you for all his hard work.  
Now they were sitting on her bed talking after packing the majority of her bedroom, everything nonessential for the next four days.  
Fred let out a long sigh. "As far as I go, nothing really. I work and invent things with my brother, do most of the things I did before, but it doesn't feel the same way as it did before. Dad's finally retired. He's been spending a lot of time in muggle museums. Mum's still doing what mum does. Bill and Fluer just had their second daughter. They're already talking about a third, hoping for a boy this time. Charlie surprised everyone by eloping a few years back and they have a son as well. She-Samantha that's her name, American witch he met on assignment-is really nice, good for him. She's pregnant again, too soon to tell what they're having yet. I already told you about George and Angie. She just gave birth to their first son. Percy's Percy."  
"And Ron?" she barely whispered. "Ginny?"  
Fred couldn't help but laugh thinking about his youngest brother and how his life had turned out. "Married to Luna, helping with the Quibbler. They run an article about you in every issue. They've never stopped searching. Ask all their readers for tips on where you've been. No new leads of course. They had twins last year, Harry and Hermione. Cute kids. Thankfully they seem to take after their mother in that department. They...uh...they want you to be the godmother. Refuse to consider anyone else and say they'll wait as long as it takes." He took a deep breath and looked at her for a long time. Her eyes brimmed with tears that she didn't let fall. "Ginny's engaged to Neville. The weddings in six months. Luna's matron-of-honor but she wants you to be. It took three years for her to date again."  
This time when he stopped talking to look at her he saw the tears falling. "I just...I'm so..."  
"I didn't tell you all that to upset you," Fred told her as he wrapped an arm around her. She buried her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "I just want you to know how much they all love you still. We all love you."  
He wasn't sure how it happened but an hour later he found himself lying in the bed with a sleeping Hermione wrapped tightly in his arms. She'd fallen asleep and he tried to pull away and tuck her in but everytime he tried to create distance between them she wrapped herself more tightly around him until he finally gave up and simply lay back on the bed and pulled the blanket tightly around them both.

  
Fred was surprised how easy it was to wake up next to Hermione the following morning. He'd had similar situations, less innocent similar situations, that had been far more awkward than waking up to a woman squirming in his arms then looking up and smiling brightly at him.  
"Good morning," she whispered as she sat up and ran a hand through her hair. "Thanks for staying with me last night."  
"You didn't give me much option the way you clung to me in your sleep, did you?" he joked.  
She simply laughed back as she stood and headed to her dresser to pull out an outfit for the day. "I'll get breakfast ready as soon as I'm out of the shower," she told him as she exited the room.  
Fred simply stayed in bed under the blanket with a content smile on his face. This was the first time since she left that he slept through the night. Even after finding her on Monday and spending the last two days with her he had fitful dreams about her leaving again or worse that he'd been dreaming this whole while and would wake up Sunday morning like none of it had ever happened. But last night seemed to seal it, make it concrete, prove that she was there, she was real, he had found her and she was coming home soon.  
While he was daydreaming she'd completed her shower and came back into the room wearing dark wash boot leg jeans, a plum colored button down, and a light gray v-neck three quarter sleeve sweater. The collar of the plum button down stuck out from under the sweater and the sleeves were rolled up and cuffed around the bottom of the arms. The bottom of the button down stuck out under the bottom of the sweater. She took a seat on the bed to pull on her black ballet flats.  
"Will you be going home?" she asked, laying on her stomach to face him.  
"Of course not! I have lots of work to do around here," he told her with a smile, pleased with the comfort level they both felt in this position.  
"In that case, you can use the shower and I have some of my dad's old clothes you can wear in the back of my closet. I'm going to get breakfast started."  
"I'll get in the shower," he yelled after her as she left the room.  
When Fred finally came into the kitchen dressed in an old pair of jeans and a green polo shirt, Hermione already had eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice ready on the table.  
"What do you think?" he asked holding his arms up to his sides and spinning once. "I had to shrink them a little."  
"Green's a good color on you," she answered with a smile. "Thank you again for all your help this week."  
"Mione, please stop thanking me. It's starting to make me feel incredibly uncomfortable," he teased, using her words from so many years ago.  
"Point taken," she laughed and breakfast continued in companionable silence.  
Fred pulled her into a hug before she left for work and she, again, placed a light peck on his cheek before walking out the door, leaving him with a larger smile than he could remember ever wearing.  
The rest of the week was more of the same. Wednesday after dinner, Fred went to his own flat and packed a few changes of clothes. When he returned, he transfigured the armchair near Hermione's window into a twin sized bed which she covered with sheets and a blanket. He didn't end up sleeping in it one night, however. Wednesday they fell asleep on the couch while watching a muggle movie. Thursday was very similar to Tuesday. Friday he'd fallen asleep on a chair in the store and she couldn't move or wake him. Some of her customers had come by right around closing time with food and drinks and thrown her a goodbye party. They'd stayed so long that Fred had fallen asleep. Hermione covered him with a blanket and placed a pillow under his head. The following morning she woke him up with breakfast and they spent the day packing up the remainder of the store.  
"What are we going to do with all these?" Fred asked around three in the afternoon looking at the ten full boxes of unsold inventory.  
"The local library is coming by to pick up those boxes," she said pointing to the six on the left. "And Mrs. Phelps, one of my regulars, is picking up the other four to donate to her school."  
From there they moved upstairs and finished packing the flat. After a few more hours and the books being picked up they ordered chinese and sat together on the floor of the store watching the muggles going on with their daily lives just outside the window.  
"Well, it's your last night," Fred broke the silence. "How's it feel?"  
"Good actually," she confided with a smile. "It's a relief to be going home. And you've been so wonderful this whole week."  
"That’s not going to turn into another thank you is it?"  
She shook her head. "I'm just grateful to have you."  
"I'm grateful to have you back," he assured her with a smile.  
That night they fell asleep on a pallet on the floor of the store. Fred had already shrunk all of her things and loaded them in a moving truck outside (keeping up appearances for the Muggles).  
The following morning, Hermione drove the truck just outside of the Leeds city limits, let Fred put the boxes into two medium sized suitcases and apparated them both back to his flat. The truck appeared back in the lot of the rental company before it opened that morning. They were in the flat by ten and unpacked by eleven, after Fred gave Hermione's wand back to her and they magically placed everything into George's old bedroom or kept it shrunk and put it in the closet.


	6. You changed the wards on the flat

"So..." George started the following morning when Fred walked downstairs to the shop.  
"So?" Fred inquired.  
"You changed the wards on the flat. I tried to come by this morning with breakfast and I couldn't floo or apparate in. When I knocked, no one answered."  
Fred knew it was meant as a question but he didn't want to answer just yet. "Yeah, I just need a little privacy is all," he finally answered after a long moment.  
"From me?" George almost sounded hurt.  
"From everyone," Fred replied. He wasn't exactly lying. She needed privacy. They needed privacy. "Look, I'm just going through some things right now and I just need to have my space."  
"Last week wasn't space enough?"  
"It was a start. I needed the time away to clear my head and now I just need a little more time to...to...I don't know."  
"I thought you said you were working on something? Something big that would make everyone happier than I could ever imagine? But you disappear for a week and now you change the wards on the flat to keep us all out? What the hell are you working on?"  
"I can't tell you yet!" Fred's voice was pleading. "Please! Please just trust me!"  
"Are you in some sort of trouble?" George asked. "I know the accounting's backed up. That's supposed to be your job. Have you been gambling? Doing drugs? Do you owe someone for something? Does it have to do with the business?"  
Fred was getting angry now. "You think I would do that to you? You think I'd take money from our business for some unknown debt? From you? Angie? The baby? How could you even think that?"  
"Look, Fred, I..." George was calmer now, sounding regretful for the things he'd said.  
"No! Don't even start! You're right! I do owe someone something! I owe someone my life! I owe her my life! I've spent five years waiting for her to come back! My life, everything I was, didn't end when I almost died in the war! Everyone else was just so damn caught up in their own grief to realize that I was just fine! I didn't change after the war like everyone keeps saying behind my back! I changed when she left!"  
"Hermione?" George barely gasped out. "What's this have to do with her?"  
"How can you even ask that?" Fred accused. "Everything has to do with her. My life has to do with her."  
"I know." All anger was gone from George's voice now. When he spoke it came out as a whisper. A gasp. "Those few hours when we thought you were dead...Fred, I thought my life was over too. I was just waiting...waiting till everyone was asleep. ‘Till I was alone. I wanted to die and I was going to do it. You're the strong one Freddy! I need you! I need you to be the way you were. I know the last five years have been hell for you. But seeing the way you've been beating yourself up for the past five years has been killing me! Have you been looking for her? Is that what this is?"  
"I looked," he told him. "I looked for a month. I'm done looking." He thought he twin would understand the true meaning but instead...  
"I'm sorry, mate. I know it's hard. We'll get through this."  
"Yeah, sure we will."  
With that George left the store room and Fred followed a few minutes later after he calmed down.

"I'm sorry you and George got in an argument about me," Hermione said as soon as Fred walked through the door.  
"It's not your fault," he promised, pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead. "You're sure you're fine on your own for dinner tonight? I can skip family dinner just once."  
She shook her head. "If you skip another dinner he's just going to be more suspicious. I can cook my own dinner and then I was just planning to do some reading."  
"Do you want leftovers?" he asked, already sure of the answer.  
"Do you even need to ask?"  
Fred laughed. "I'll be back as soon as possible."  
"Take your time," she laughed. "I'll be fine."

"Why'd you change your wards?" Ron asked as soon as Fred walked into the dining room. "Luna and I tried to bring the kids over last night. They wouldn't sleep. But we couldn't get in."  
George gave Fred a knowing look but answered, "There's been some concern about suspicious characters around Diagon Alley. Nothing too serious, some minor thefts. But we increased security around the store too."  
Ron let it drop with that. So did everyone else.  
"The babies still won't stop crying?" Fred inquired, taking baby Hermione from Luna's arms.  
"No one makes funny faces as good as Uncle Fred," his sister-in-law answered.  
“I take offense to that,” George called from the other side of the room.  
As if on cue baby Hermione reached up and pet Fred's cheek, earning a monkey noise for her efforts. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.  
"I love you, baby girl," he whispered.  
She happily replied, "Too."  
Baby Harry was at his feet with his arms held high, begging for a little attention of his own. Fred happily obliged, lifting the toddler with his free arm. He really did love these kids. His nieces and nephews were his reason to keep going when times got hard. They were the only true joy he'd had over the past five years.  
"How was your vacation, dear?" his mum asked as the family sat down to dinner.  
"It was fine," Fred shrugged.  
"I thought it was supposed to be a staycation sort of thing?" hisfather asked, proud of himself for using the muggle slang.  
"It was," Fred agreed, "but I found a place that offered really nice evening activities so I decided to stay a few nights as well."  
"Evening activities?" Ron asked with a knowing wink.  
"Not those kinds of activities, Ron," Fred snapped defensively. What he had with Hermione was pure and beautiful and to have it suggested that it wasn't...Fred had to remind himself that Ron had no idea who he'd been spending his evenings with.

Hermione made herself a frozen pizza, glad that Fred had installed muggle appliances and was quite fond of the easy dinners as well. As she sat at the table with her book and her meal she was surprised to realize that she felt incredibly lonely after spending the last six nights with Fred. It was strange really. She'd spent most evenings alone since graduating university but it felt somewhat foreign to her now. She couldn't wait for Fred to be home. She did have to wait though. It was nine o'clock and he still wasn't back.

Fred stared at the clock. He wanted, more than anything, to be home with Hermione right now. He'd promised to come back as soon as possible but then Ginny and Neville started the wedding talk, groomsmen were being discussed, and he couldn't sneak out after giggling the nieces and nephews to sleep.  
Half ten. Damn. He would never get out of here if he didn't act fast. Letting out a deep yawn he stretched and stood. "I hate to break up the party but I really should be getting to bed. I'm exhausted."  
There were moans of disappointment from the rest of his family.  
He continued anyway. "Mum, do you think I could get some of those leftovers I saw you packing away?"  
Molly Weasley beamed. "Oh, of course dear."

Hermione waited till a quarter past ten for Fred to come home before going to bed. Usually it didn't take so long for her to fall asleep but tonight she just couldn't. She lay awake for a good twenty minutes before she heard the door open and close. Another five minutes and there was a knock on her own door.  
"Mione?" he called softly into the room. "You awake?"  
"I am," she replied, sitting up. "Come in, sit. How was dinner?"  
"Good," he answered, sitting on the bed next to her. "Long. More wedding talk. I just don't get it."  
"You don't get marriage?" she asked. Was that disappointment she heard in her own voice?  
"No, I completely get marriage. I don't get how all the men are getting so excited about it. I understand getting excited for your own wedding but other peoples?"  
"Maybe when you get married, you'll understand," she offered.  
"Yeah, maybe," he replied thoughtfully. "I put the food in the ice boxfor you." He stood to go.  
She grabbed his arm.  
"Something wrong?"  
She shook her head. "No. I just...will you stay? I...I got a little lonely tonight and..."  
"Just let me change, alright?"


	7. Well don't just leave her outside.

They apparated right to the front steps of the Burrow, Fred's arms wrapped tightly around Hermione's shoulders. It was the safest place to land. There were no windows on the door and the windows on the front of the house were narrow and set far from the door. Hermione was still nervous and Fred told her he'd go in and tell the family he had a guest, prepare them slightly.  
"Alright, 'Mione?" he whispered as she got her footing.  
She nodded.  
"I'll go tell them and come out for you?"  
She nodded again.  
He opened the door. They weren't in the sitting room. Exploring the house slightly, he found them all in the kitchen.  
"Oh, Fred, dear! It's so good to see you," his mother cooed pulling him into a bone crushing hug. "We were waiting for you to have lunch."  
"Quidditch after," Ron announced, bouncing a crying Harry on his knee.  
Fred nodded but didn't move toward the table like the others. "I, uh, I actually brought a guest today. I hope it's alright."  
"Oh, of course dear!" his mum answered. "Is it someone special?" She dug. Fred was her only child that was still single and she didn't like that.  
"Yes," he answered honestly, his smile growing by the second. "She's very special!"  
"Ha! She! I knew it! So we get to meet the mystery woman?" George shouted.  
Fred rolled his eyes. "Something like that."  
"Well don't just leave her outside! Go get her! Go on!" his mum urged and was met with nods of agreement.  
Fred disappeared back through the door into the sitting room. Minutes later he returned holding the hand of a still not visible woman. "It'll be fine," he turned and whispered. "They'll be happy to see you."  
It must've encouraged her because her foot stepped through, followed by her leg, and soon her head peaked in as well.  
Those who were facing her gasped, staring wide-eyed, but didn't say a word as their eyes all seemed to fill with tears. It got the attention of those with their backs turned to her as they slowly turned to face her as well.  
Ron was the last to turn. Slowly he handed his son to his mum and stood. He was the first to speak. "Mione?" It was barely a whisper.  
She squeezed Fred's hand till her knuckles were white and the tips of his fingers were turning blue. "Hello, Ronald," she answered as he ran to her and pulled her into a tight hug.  
"I can't believe you're home!"  
"It's good to be back," she whispered in his ear before being pulled away and engulfed by Ginny, then Luna, then Neville, George, Angelina, and both Mrs. and Mr. Weasley at once.  
Quidditch was canceled, lunch forgotten, as they all moved to the sitting room where Hermione quietly and cautiously filled them in on her life for the past five years. What she'd been doing, where she'd been doing it, why she left, why she came back.  
Mrs. Weasley was so happy to see Hermione sitting in her home again and so fearful of her leaving that she didn't cook dinner that night. Instead, five hours into the visit, the family sat down to the cold remains of lunch.  
Hermione was obviously uncomfortable with all the attention, sadly it was only obvious to Fred. She tried many times to change the subject to anyone else but everytime she tried, they only answered one or two questions before turning all the attention back to her. They were all stunned by some of her stories: skydiving, backpacking, rock climbing, repelling, base jumping. She hadn't had a quiet life like most of them had settled into since the war. That was all over after university, she explained. She bought the book store and spent the past two years building it into a successful business, which she could've simply moved to another location when she was evicted from her building but instead chose to close.  
"Why?" Bill asked. "I mean if it was successful and you say you were happy, why just close it?"  
Hermione looked at Fred and smiled a smile that she seemed to only smile at him. "Fred showed up one day and he asked me to come back," she answered with a shrug, "and it seemed the best thing to do at the time."  
It was late by now. Well past eleven. And the family was once again crowded into the small sitting room. Fred had barely left Hermione's side all day. In fact, other than to use the loo and when he helped Ron put the babies to sleep they stayed next to each other, hand in hand, all day.  
"It's getting late," Mrs. Weasley finally said. "You all have to work tomorrow. You should get to bed."  
Everyone stood to go, doing the rounds of hugs, kisses, and handshakes before disapparating to their own homes.  
"Where are you staying dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked when it was just her, Hermione, Mr. Weasley, Fred and Ginny left.  
"Oh, Fred has been very welcoming," Hermione replied, anxious to get back home now.  
"You're staying with Fred, dear?"  
Hermione and Fred both nodded.  
"In that tiny flat?"  
They nodded again.  
"With his awful cooking?"  
"Hermione's a much better cook than I am," Fred answered at that.  
"If this is about money dear, you could stay here for free, of course. I always hoped you'd think of this as a sort of second home."  
"I do," Hermione answered, "but I'm rather comfortable at Fred's flat. And money isn't an issue. I have enough savings to last me quite a while. And Fred's given me a part time job at the shop doing accounting and bookwork."  
"You're sure dear?"  
"Mum, it's late. Do you mind if we continue this later?" Fred came to the rescue.  
"Oh, of course, dear."  
After another round of hugs and kisses and Ginny making plans to visit the next day, Hermione and Fred were finally permitted to leave.  
"Oh, I hate to think of her spending all that time alone with Fred," Mrs. Molly moaned when they were gone. "She's so young and beautiful. I hope it doesn't discourage any potential suitors."  
Ginny burst into laughter.  
"What is it, dear?"  
"Mum," Ginny chastised through her giggles, "if anything is going to discourage potential suitors it won't be that she lives with another wizard. It will be that she's so obviously in love with that wizard."  
Mrs. Weasley looked confused.  
"Didn't you see the way they were acting? They're so obviously in love!"


	8. You should do something about it.

“Here to see our most honored new employee?" George asked when his sister arrived the next morning. "If so, she's not working yet. We don't have anything for her to do before lunch. At least on Monday."  
"Partially," Ginny replied, looking around the room to see if there was anyone nearby listening in. "I was hoping to see you a moment first."  
He nodded, also looking around the room. He, however, was doing it in a comical, mocking way. She slapped his arm.  
"I have a question for you," she whispered.  
"What's that?" he whispered in return.  
"Verity," she called to the part-time sales clerk, "will you please cover the front for a moment while I talk with my brother?"  
The girl nodded and made her way to the counter as Ginny pulled George out of the shop.  
"What is it?" George laughed, amused with his sister's secrecy.  
"It's about Fred and Hermione," she continued to whisper.  
"What about them?" he played stupid.  
She glared and continued to do so until he caved. It took a good seven minutes.  
"Alright, fine," George groaned at the steady stream of customers entering the shop to be assisted by a part time sales clerk that, though good hearted and good natured, was a bit of a ditz. "He's always fancied her some. He thought she was really cute when we met her on the train her first year and when he found out how smart she was...well you know how he likes the smart ones. And do you remember our last year at Hogwarts, after that first DA meeting? She said it was kind of fun breaking the rules. Well, that was it for him."  
"And all those times you two tormented her?" Ginny questioned, confused by the confession.  
"He thought it was cute to see her all huffy about things," George shrugged. "Anyway, when they were on the run he was a mess and well I never thought about it before last week but he was different after she left. Everyone thought it was the war but he was fine for that first month. It wasn't really until she left that he got so withdrawn."  
"Do you think he's in love with her?" she cut to the chase.  
"I know he is," George answered easily.  
"How do you know?"  
He shrugged again. "Just do."

Hermione and Ginny had lunch upstairs thanks to Hermione's fear of the press and the public reaction. Once again, Ginny didn't waste any time on small talk.  
"What's going on with you and Fred?" she asked as soon as they sat.  
Hermione stared without speaking. "He's a very good friend."  
"Oh, come on, 'Mione! This is me you're talking to!"  
That got a reaction. She blushed. Ginny smiled.  
"When did you realize?" Ginny asked.  
"The day after..." she paused and let out a shuddering breath. "The day after my parents died. He...he became my best friend in the few weeks between the final battle and that...that night. And when...when I got that letter he was so good to me. I just knew. Then I felt guilty for knowing. Then I just couldn't live with myself for feeling good when everyone else felt so bad, even after hearing about my parents."  
"Did you ever tell him?"  
Hermione shook her head. "I tried, before I left, but all that came out was that if he asked me to come back I would. I...I was hoping he’d ask me not to leave at all but..." She was silent a long time. Ginny waited, knowing her friend well enough to know she wasn't done yet. Hermione finally cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter now, though."  
"What do you mean it doesn't matter?"  
"It's not like he feels the same. I'm okay with that. Really."  
"You don't think he feels the same?" Ginny was indignant. "Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way he acts around you? Treats you?"  
Hermione refused to let herself get her hopes up. She simply shook her head.  
"I'm serious, 'Mione! I know my brothers! He feels the same! You should do something about it."  
"Like what?"  
Ginny gave her a suggestive look as she left. It was time for Hermione to get to work.


	9. And the poor pygmy puffs have to pay for it?

Hermione thought about what Ginny said. Then she thought some more. She spent almost a full week thinking about it. She was, of course, Hermione Granger and thinking was what she was best at. In the meantime, they had only gotten closer. As they got closer, she thought more about what Ginny said and wondered if maybe her friend had been right.  
She had a point, really. Ginny did know her brothers. In fact, Ginny knew men. The only man Hermione had ever truly understood was Harry and he was gone now. Maybe, just maybe, Ginny was right.  
"Dinner was fun tonight," Fred commented when they got back to the flat.  
"Do you think they're ever going to stop staring at me as if they're convinced they've got barmy?" Hermione laughed. It was the third Weasley dinner that week and the traditional Sunday dinner at that. Everyone was there and Hermione hadn't gotten peace for more than three minutes the entire day.  
"Probably not," Fred replied, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tightly and staring into her eyes. "I have trouble with it myself sometimes."  
It was now or never, Hermione told herself. Standing on her toes, Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders and raised her lips to his. It was simple. It was nice. Or it would've been nice. But he didn't do anything. He simply stood there. And moments later his arms loosened around her till they fell to his sides.  
She pulled away frowning. So Ginny wasn't right. He wasn't interested in her at all.  
"I'm so sorry, Fred," she whispered. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."  
He didn't say a word. He couldn't believe what had just happened. She kissed him. It was the best feeling in the world. But where was she now? She was gone.  
He spun on his heels and headed toward her room. He knocked. She didn't answer. He tried the knob. It was locked. Sure he could have opened the door. He was a wizard after all. But he didn't want to intrude on her like that. She wanted to be alone right now and though it killed him, he had to let her.

Hermione didn't make breakfast the next morning. In fact she didn't leave her room all morning, until she heard the front door to the flat click. Then, after another fifteen minutes of silence, she finally left her room to shower and get dressed.  
An hour after that she was clean, dressed, fed and heading out the door. She had something to do before work today.

Fred was in the back stockroom when Hermione snuck down the stairs and out the front door to the shop. He didn't see a thing. George did, however.  
"What's up with 'Mione this morning?" George asked, walking into the stockroom to help Fred get supplies for the shelves.  
Fred grumbled something incoherent as he levitated another box toward the door to bring to the front.  
"What was that?" George asked, amused.  
"She kissed me last night and I just stood there like a bloody fool," Fred repeated loudly, emphasizing his point with a harsh flick of the wrist that sent a box flying into the wall.  
"And the poor pygmy puffs have to pay for it?" George asked, flicking his own wrist and righting the box. "Why'd you do that?"  
"It was an accident," Fred defended. "They're fine."  
"Not the pygmy puffs, stupid! Why'd you just stand there? I know how you feel about her!"  
"I don't even know. It was like I didn't even realize what was happening until it was over!"  
"She's that bad a kisser, huh?" George laughed.  
"That good!" Fred defended. "It was like my body was numb! In shock! When I finally realized what happened it was tingling all over. I-"  
"Before you go on, is this really something I need or would want to hear?"  
"Probably not," Fred replied, blushing slightly. "Anyway, afterward she apologized, said she was going to bed, and locked herself in her room. I tried to follow her but I couldn't just barge in like that!" He finally understood something George had said earlier. "Wait! Did you see her today? Is she here?"  
George shook his head. "She snuck downstairs and out the front door just before I came back."


	10. The press is outside.

Hermione took a deep breath as she prepared herself to open the door to Flourish and Blotts but just as she was about to reach her hand out the door swung open to the bright smiling face or Mr. Blotts.  
"Hermione Granger?" he beamed as he ushered her inside. "Oh my word! I heard rumors that you were back but there were no verified sightings. Oh but I did hope!"  
"It's good to see you again, Mr. Blotts," she answered as he pulled her into a hug. They'd gotten close over her years at Hogwarts. She was an enthusiastic reader, making her a loyal customer. From her first visit she spent three times what the average Hogwarts student did in any single visit. She made biweekly mail orders to the store as well. When she did come in to make her purchases, she truly enjoyed the long conversations she had with the co-owner of the store.  
The feeling was mutual.  
"What brings you to my shop so early on this lovely morning?" he asked as he set a pot of tea to boil."  
"I was actually looking for work," she admitted. "I wondered if maybe you had a part time position available? I have a business degree from the University of Birmingham. I owned my own muggle bookstore for awhile near Leeds. I only had to close it because-"  
"Oh, Miss Granger, I would love to offer you a position at the store."  
"But?" she asked. There had to be a but, judging from his tone and the expression on his face.  
"The truth is, my dear, I was hoping to retire soon. You may have heard, Flourish passed last month."  
"Yes, sir," she answered. "Mrs. Weasley told me."  
"Well I don't want to work myself to the grave like my dear friend. I'm just waiting till I can find someone..." he paused with a hopeful look. "Would be interested in taking over?" he asked. "You won't even need to buy the business. I'll gladly sign it over to you. I don't need the money. I need someone with passion for reading. Someone I can trust."

Fred paced the store, waiting for Hermione to return. People must've seen her when she left through the front door earlier because reporters were crowding around that same door now. She wouldn't be happy when she got back.  
There was the faint pop of apparation in the back room. He had to stop himself from running to see if it was her. He didn't want to excite the hoard any more than they already were. Instead he took slow deliberate steps toward the back room.  
It was her.  
"Where were you?" he questioned by way of greeting.  
"I went to Flourish and Blotts to inquire about a job," she replied quietly not meeting his eye.  
"You don't want to work here anymore?" he asked, trying to hide the hurt in his voice.  
She let out a soft sigh. "Fred, you don't really need me and I'd like to find something that I can do full time. I need something to keep me busy."  
"Is this about last night?" he continued to interrogate.  
She didn't answer for a long time, then turning away from him replied, "A little, maybe. I...I just feel like maybe we need a little separation. We live together. We work together. I...I just think...I don't even know what I think."  
"Hermione I-"  
"Is there anything you need around the shop?" she cut him off.  
"No. Actually it might be best for you not to be here a while. The press is outside. I know you didn't want to deal with all that."  
She nodded. "I have plans with Ginny for lunch. I'll pack a few things and stay there a while."  
"Mione that's not what I meant! I don't want you to leave. I want you to be comfortable. I know you don't want them bothering you."  
She nodded again. "I'll see you later I guess," she told him as she turned to go.  
Fred slammed an experimental potion to the floor.


	11. She mumbled something about her mum

Fred was temperamental the rest of that day and the next. He didn't like the way they'd left things. He didn't like eating his meals alone. He didn't like going home to an empty apartment. He didn't like spending his evenings alone. He didn't like sleeping alone. He didn't like being without her. He'd been slamming doors, messing up sales, throwing and/or levitating things into walls, yelling at George and their employees.  
That was the state Ginny found him in when she visited on Tuesday night. It was just after closing time and she and George were waiting for him in the back room when he left the sales floor after turning the sign to closed.  
"What's this then?" he groaned as he plopped himself into a chair.  
"I can't come visit my brothers?" Ginny asked, pretending to be interested in a bright green pygmy puff on the shelf.  
"We both know that's not why you're here."  
"Fine. Why'd you let her leave?" Ginny asked.  
"I didn't let her leave," he snapped. "I didn't want her to be uncomfortable here with all the reporters camped outside. I just want her to be happy. She took that and something from the night before and turned it into something different than what it was."  
"Well, since you brought it up, you never did tell me why you didn't kiss her back," George answered.  
Fred didn't reply.  
"Fine," Ginny sighed. "Don't answer! You'll both be at dinner in an hour anyway."

Hermione was nowhere in sight when Fred arrived at the Burrow an hour later. He searched the entire downstairs and the garden for her to no avail.  
"She said she wasn't feeling well and went to bed early," his mother whispered to him just as they were sitting down to eat.  
"Where's 'Mione?" Ron asked ten minutes into the meal. "I wanted to talk to her about the baptism."  
"She mumbled something about her mum and that she wasn't hungry," their father answered. "She's up in the twins' old room now. Probably asleep."  
"What about her mum?" Ron asked as a weight settled in Fred's stomach.  
Looking at the calendar on the wall, Fred didn't bother to offer an excuse as he stood and bolted from the room.  
He was breathless by the time he reached his old bedroom. Without bothering to knock he threw the door open. "Mione?" he barely breathed.  
She was curled in a ball in his old bed. She didn't reply but he could tell she wasn't asleep by her ragged breathing. Every now and then a sob would escape.  
She scooted away when she felt the mattress dip behind her. Then scooted further still when she felt his large, warm hand on her back. Soon she was pressed against the wall. He didn't move his hand. He didn't do or say anything else for a long moment, then, "I'm sorry I forgot."  
"I didn't expect you to remember," she choked back.  
"Well, I remembered," he backtracked. "Just not as early as I should have."  
She didn't respond.  
"Are you okay?" he persisted, rubbing his hand along her back.  
"I miss them so much," she sobbed, her back still to him.  
He simply laid down behind her and pulled her to him. "I know. I'm sorry."  
"I just wish I could see them one more time. Hug them. Tell them how much I love them."  
"They knew you loved them 'Mione," he soothed.  
"No!" she protested. He silenced the door. "No, they didn't know it! They didn't know it because I erased their memories. When they got in that car, they didn't even know they ever had a daughter! When that drunk driver hit them, they'd lived a whole year as if I never existed. When they died they didn't even know who I was."  
"But you knew who they were," he whispered. "You loved them up until their last moment. You still love them now."  
"It's not enough!"  
"It has to be!"  
"I just want to see them," she choked out again.  
"Have you been to their grave today?" he asked. She shook her head. "Then let's go. Your mum deserves flowers on her birthday." She didn't move. "Come on!" he ordered. "Up!"

"Mione?" Ron called as he walked up the stairs toward the room she was staying in at the Burrow. His mum had told him that she hadn't eaten much that day and he wanted her to have something nearby in case she got hungry. She'd spent so long taking care of him he only felt it right that he try to return the favor. Plus, Fred had never returned after running from the dining room an hour earlier. "Fred?"  
No one answered. He wondered if they had a row. He heard her yell something. Or he thought she had. It was hard to tell over his noisy family and the yell ended quickly. Knowing Hermione and her temper if there was a fight either one of them silenced the room or apparated away in anger. That was the only explanation for the silence.  
He finally reached the door to find a note taped to the front of it. It was Fred's chicken-scratch. Luckily after twenty three years he'd grown accustomed to reading his brother's messy handwriting.  
It's 'Mione's mum's birthday. I took her to visit their grave. Don't know when we'll be back. ~F  
That must've been why Fred ran from the room and up the stairs with a look of horror on his face at the mention of 'Mione's mum. It troubled Ron, though. In all the years they'd been friends, he never knew her mum's birthday. She always sent his own mum a card on hers. She had it memorized. His dad's too though she opted for some strange muggle contraption for him. Ron hadn't taken the time to learn about her parents in all the years he'd known her. Fred had though. He was glad his brother was looking out for her where he had lacked but it still didn't feel good not knowing this information.

"You didn't have to do this, Fred," Hermione whispered as they stumbled through the dark cemetery.  
"I couldn't very well let you come alone this late at night could I?" he laughed, securing an arm around her shoulders to steady her stumbling in the pitch black. Despite the darkness she seemed to know exactly where she was going. He figured, situation reversed, he would too no doubt.  
"But you must be hungry," she insisted. "Having missed dinner."  
"We can stop by a muggle restaurant after," he suggested with a shrug.  
She nodded as she slowed to a stop and knelt on the ground. Placing the lilies they bought on the ground between two headstones, she let out a long sigh and started talking.  
Feeling as though he was intruding on a private moment, Fred took to wandering in the dark but not too far. He didn't want to get lost of leave her alone in the dark just in case there was someone lurking around. It was a habit when he was out after dark to stay near anyone around him-usually Ginny-just in case there was danger. There never was anymore. Not since the war. But he still worried.  
About twenty minutes later she stepped up beside him. By the lighted tip of his wand he could she the tear tracks on her cheeks. "Are you ready?" she asked. "I know a little muggle place a few blocks away."  
He nodded and let her lead the way to the lit street.


	12. I wouldn't expect you to

"Come home," he pleaded, as the server set their food in front of them. The woman gave them a significant look before seeing to the next table.  
It had been a nice, if not forced, conversation to that point. She let out a long sigh. "Fred, I don't have a home," she whispered, a small sob evident in her voice. "I'm living off of other people's kindness right now."  
"There was a time when you called my parents family," he reminded her. "Not 'other people'."  
"You know what I mean," she continued. "I don't have my own flat. I've been staying with you and your parents and it's very kind of all of you to put up with me the way you have but it's not my own home. I don't have a home to go back to."  
"It's not putting up with someone when you love that person," he reminded her.  
She didn't say anything. All she could think was that he didn't love her so what was the point in going to his home with him. To cook his meals? To clean his house? To keep him company and be a warm body?  
"Excuse me," she finally whispered, pushing back from the table and exiting to the loo just in time to hide the tears that brimmed on her eyes.  
"You alright, dear?" the waitress asked as Hermione splashed water on her face. The woman was at the sink next to her washing her hands.  
"Yes, ma'am," she answered with a forced half smile.  
"Trouble with your husband?" the woman asked. "I couldn't help but overhear."  
"No. Well he's not my husband."  
The woman nodded. "That does tend to cause trouble you know? Couple living together before they marry. My daughter tried it but they couldn't make it work."  
"We're not even a couple," she corrected. "We're just friends. I've recently moved back and he let me stay with him for a while but I've stayed with his mum and dad the past couple days." She didn't know why she was telling the older waitress all this. It was easier than talking to Mrs. Weasley or even Ginny in a way.  
"So he wants to be more than friends and you don't? Is that the problem?"  
Hermione shook her head. "He doesn't want anything more than friendship from me."  
"You're wrong about that, dear," the waitress replied, heading toward the door. "He wants much more than friendship from you." With a wink the woman was gone.  
Hermione splashed more water on her face before returning to her table.  
"Are you alright?" Fred asked as he stood to pull out her chair for her. "Is it about your parents?"  
Hermione shook her head, answering "I'm fine."  
Fred nodded as he sat back down. They ate the rest of their meal in silence. He stared at her the whole time, silently willing her to say something, anything. She was lost in thought about what the waitress had just told her and barely touched her food. Before long the same woman was bringing their check and with another wink in Hermione's direction--and behind Fred's back--she was gone, their payment in hand.  
They walked together to a deserted alleyway.  
"I'll be looking for a flat of my own tomorrow," she whispered as they walked.  
He stopped in his tracks. She took another three steps before realizing he wasn't beside her any longer.  
"What's wrong?" she asked, turning to see his horror-stricken face.  
"What's wrong?" he asked in return, as if he couldn't believe she even had to ask. "What's wrong is that I asked you, not a full hour ago to come home with me, where you belong, and now you're telling me that you'd rather live on your own! That's what's bloody wrong!"  
"Fred, it's not a big deal," she soothed. "We both knew I wasn't going to stay there forever."  
"No," he protested. "Apparently you knew that but I had no bloody clue! It's alright though. Go! That's what you do right? You just leave! Will we be privileged with your new address once you're settled or are you just going to disappear again? I won't come bloody looking for you again in five years!"  
"I wouldn't expect you to," she yelled back. "In another five years I'm sure you'll find another woman to cook for you and clean for you and keep you company. Maybe that one won't be stupid enough to bloody fall in love with you! Hell, maybe she won't care that you're simply using her!"  
Fred looked stricken. "Using you! You think I'm using you?"  
She didn't reply.  
"Wait!" Something suddenly seemed to dawn on him. "You're in love with me?" he asked, his voice tender, all anger gone.  
She blushed a deep crimson color. Apparently she hadn't been aware of the slip. She turned away from him.  
"Mione, wait!" he called.  
It was too late. She disapparated on the spot.


	13. Anything harder and she'll start singing off key

"Hermione Granger?"  
It started as a whisper when she stepped into the bottom floor of the inn. The floor that held the Three Broomsticks Pub.  
Then it grew with whispers of "Is it really her?" mixed in. Everyone stared, craning their necks to get a better view.  
It was all very uncomfortable and she was suddenly regretting her decision to choose an inn in the wizarding world for the night. Then finally she spotted a friendly face. One that didn't stare, didn't whisper, didn't treat her as though she was some circus act.  
"Rosemerta," he called in his Irish drawl, "get my friend a butterbeer. Anything harder and she'll start singing off key on the table top."  
Hermione couldn't help but smile as she readily accepted Seamus's warm embrace.  
"Been waiting for you to come around," he whispered. "The bosses invited me by the shop plenty o' times to see you but I knew you'd start seeing people in your own time."  
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she vaguely remembered George mentioning that Seamus and Dean ran the Hogsmeade branch of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.  
"What're you doin' here? Thought you were stayin' with the Weasleys till the buzz died down a little."  
"That was the plan," she whispered as they took a booth in the back. "But I just needed a night alone to think."  
"And you didn't choose a muggle inn?" It was Dean this time. He'd just arrived and purchased a butterbeer for himself on the way over. Sliding into the booth he pulled her into a tight hug.  
"This was the first place I thought of," she answered.  
"You could stay with us," they offered together.  
She shook her head. "Probably not a good idea. Stupid Prophet and Witch Weekly will turn it into something absurd."  
"Like how you're breaking up George's marriage?" Seamus laughed.  
"Or you and Ginny are an item?" Dean added.  
"Exactly like that," Hermione laughed as she replied.  
"I'm surprised they didn't pair you with Fred yet! I mean, afterall, you were leaving the shop first thing in the morning and he's the one who lives over the shop," Seamus reasoned.  
Hermione didn't reply.  
Dean seemed to sense that they had over stepped after a long silence of observing the rapidly changing display of emotions on her face. He cleared his throat. "I think we should get going. Work and all in the morning. Let's get you a room first though."  
Hermione nodded and fifteen minutes later she was laying down to sleep in a plush bed on the third floor of the inn.  
As soon as Dean and Seamus returned to the small house they shared on the outskirts of town, near but not too near the Shrieking Shack, Dean scrawled a quick note and sent it out the window.

Fred paced the living room floor contemplating all that had just gone on. She was in love with him but she wanted to move out because she thought he was using her to cook and clean and keep him warm at night. He'd yelled at her. He basically accused her of being heartless and abandoning them. He'd told her to just go. To do it again. And that he wouldn't look for her this time, even though he knew that bit wasn't true.  
If she left again he'd never stop looking for her. She loved him and he knew it now and finally, he realized that was all that he'd been looking for all along. Her to love him. To know that she felt the same way about him as he did about her.  
If you ask me to come back, I will.  
He understood now. It wasn't a recent turn of events. She loved him long before now. She loved him then too and all of this could've been avoiding five years ago if he'd just asked her to stay that day. But she needed time away and he wanted her to have that.  
Is that what she needs now? Should he give it to her again? It didn't work out too well for them the last time.  
An owl pecked on his window, breaking his chain of thought.  
Fred,  
Thought you'd want to know that 'Mione's at the Three Broomsticks. We made sure she made it to her room safe, sound and alone.  
Dean  
This was better at least. She was in the wizarding world still. There had been a sighting by someone they both knew and trusted. Even better he knew where she was. Still he doubted he'd sleep well that night. He hadn't since Saturday.


	14. You told me that you love me

Hermione woke after barely sleeping. Looking toward the window she was glad to see that the sun was finally breaking through the trees. She rolled out of bed and stumbled to the mirror looking at her swollen bloodshot eyes. She was a mess. Damn him.  
There was a knock at her door and she wondered if it was housekeeping already. Or possibly room service. She remembered in the week after the war when she stayed at the Leaky Cauldron and well wishers would send meals to her room so she didn't have to buy them herself.  
Slowly she walked toward the door and opened it a crack. It wasn't housekeeping. It wasn't room service. He looked tired. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen just like hers. His hair was a mess. His clothes were wrinkled, the same clothes he was wearing the night before.  
"Fred?" she asked as she opened the door a little farther, allowing him in. "What are you doing here?"  
"Dean told me where you were," he informed her.  
"Yes, well, I assumed as much. But why are you here?" she asked again.  
He took a deep breath before crossing the room to the bed. "To ask you to come home," he explained softly.  
"Fred, I told you last night-"  
"You told me that you love me," he cut her off.  
"I said so much more than that!"  
"But that's the only part that mattered!"  
"Maybe to you," she shrieked, practically in hysterics. "It all mattered very much to me! Everything I said and everything you said!"  
"That's not what I meant," Fred soothed. "Of course it mattered. It all mattered. I hate that I've made you feel used. I don't like having you around because you can cook and clean and keep me company. I love having you around because I've spent the last five years feeling like a piece of me was missing. I could never fully enjoy life because I felt like no matter who else I was with I was alone."  
"I get it!" she snapped back at him. "I left and you're angry at me."  
"No," he argued back. "You don't get it at all. Was I hurt? Yes! Did I miss you every second? Yes! But in the end it was my own bloody fault. You told me that you'd come back if I asked. Would you have stayed if I asked? Is that what you were really saying."  
She only nodded.  
"I didn't ask and that was my fault. I wouldn't have gone through any of that if I'd have just spoken up that day and told you how much I need you, how much I love you, that I wanted and needed you to stay. I didn't."  
"You loved me?" she asked, not looking at him. Afraid.  
"No," he answered standing from the bed and taking a step closer to her putting a hand on each of her arms. "There's nothing past tense about it. I LOVE you! I have for years. Years before you left, before the battle. Hell, George has been teasing me about it since half way through our third year and to be completely honest, even back then, I think he was right. I love you! I want to spend my life with you, get married, have children, grow old. I've fantasized about all that for years."  
The room was silent for a long time as he stared at her.  
Finally he let his hands fall to his side. "I'm going to go now," he told her. "Not because I want to or have to but I think you may need me to. I just put a lot on you. You know where to find me when you're ready."  
With that, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and left.


	15. Freddy's got some explaining to do

"I knew it the day my parents died." Fred had just arrived home from work. Hermione had made dinner and was waiting for him at the table. She looked tense, scared. He was just happy to see her there again. "That I loved you," she continued. "Well I always knew that I loved you, as a friend, an older brother figure, but it wasn't until that night that I really understood how much you meant to me. You were just so good to me that night and you had been for weeks leading up to it."  
She paused. He didn't say anything, sensing she wasn't finished yet.  
"But I felt so bad about it. My parents were dead. Harry was dead. Everyone else I knew was miserable. I should've felt worse than I did but I just felt like as long as you were there it would all be alright. And I felt horrible for not feeling worse. That's the real reason I left. I'm sorry to have done it now. I'm sorry I did that to you mostly. To everyone else too. But mostly to you."  
"I think everyone else has forgiven you," he replied, taking a step closer and wiping the tears from her cheeks.  
"And you?" she asked, looking at him with wide innocent eyes.  
"I could think of a few ways you can make it up to me."  
"Like?"  
"Oh, I don't know," he drug the words out. "Marrying me?"  
She laughed.  
He didn't.  
"You're serious?" she asked.  
"Yes," he answered easily.  
She was silent a long time before shocking him with her answer. "Yes!"  
"Really?!" he shouted with joy.  
"Yes," she told him again, laughing.  
Fred practically leapt across the table, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her with all the feeling and emotional he'd been too scared to show her before.

Mrs. Weasley shrieked when she walked into the kitchen the following morning to start the tea. As was her habit since Bill was born her eyes drifted to the family clock that hung on the wall. There were some curious additions to it. One were the words "Las Vegas" which had seven hands pointed to it: George, Angelina, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Fred but it was the final name that gave her the biggest shock of all. Hermione.  
"Arthur!" she wailed. "Arthur, come down here right now."  
"Yes, dear," he breathed, winded from his sprint down the stairs.  
She only stood silently pointing at the clock.  
"My word," he gasped then let out a small chuckle.  
They both stared at the clock for another half hour until the hands moved, all to "Home."  
Ginny stumbled in seconds later, bleary eyed and smiling from ear to ear. She looked at her parents then followed their gaze to the family clock. "Freddy's got some explaining to do," she giggled as she stumbled toward the stairs.


End file.
